Woman (day 2971)

I don’t know how to tell you
That I see stars inside your eyes.
Every time I watch those stars
A galaxy opens up for me
That spins and whirls
And ignites with life;
Burning orbs in orbit.
And in those eyes
I’m met with joy
Such that astounds my every moment
Like a little cat jumping around
Playing amidst daylight’s echo.
I’ve searched for words
And folded my letters
To find the galaxy I sought to describe,
But in doing so
I’ve learned so well
That no mortal man
Can articulate
What woman holds in her hand.

Sworn (day 2781)

I don’t want you to remember me
When you see daylight searching
Over twilight’s shoulder,
I want birds to scream bloody murder
Through their washed out faces
Long callused like knots
Grown out from tree trunks.
I want you to document my every step
That lives deep in the mud
Like you would document a nightmare
Scared of even breathing
For danger it would incite the demon
You most feared.
I don’t want you to remember me
For in your memory, icy cold
Shall rest my name, sworn.

Big Speak (day 2663)

Apathy ranked high
In a list of long morals
That ruled the Big Speak’s ritualistic world
Visions confused as actions
Daylight confused as laughter
Dogs barking at parked cars
That swam away in a sea of surfboards.
The mothers cried
But held their tongue
For their culture had been shifted
Into bravery, brutish endurance
Ending in self-righteousness
So tightened by affirmations
Conflicting with daylight savings
While observing from a park bench.
But don’t tell lonely
For the Big Speak’s confused
That rhetoric means engagement
And slaughter means community.

Overturned (day 2157)

Holding on to a memory
Like a rainy afternoon
Through a window.
An oblique vase casts
Two shadows upon its inanimate post:
One small shadow from the heavily diffused daylight,
The other, much larger
From the pulsating heart
Laid bare upon the table.
Heavy splatters pointing fingers
In every direction
And a wooden chair sits overturned,
Too cold to stoke the fire.

Moon at Midnight – Part XIX (day 1993)

(part XVIII)

I awoke early with Moon Cow
To ask him if I could take his horse
I told him I was going
To go to see Amy & Frank
See how they were setting into autumn
I had hardly been able to sleep
My mind was racing and ignited
And I definitely didn’t want to
Step on any feet in my new family
How could I know?
I only had vague introduction to their culture
And could only have my own reference
With the culture I was brought up in
I wasn’t naive enough to think
I knew how to fit in just yet,
Accepted as I was.

I hoped spending the day with Amy, Frank, and Clarinet
Would answer many questions for me
Being with them filled me with so much gratitude
So much love and respect for the family unit
But this was different
Than family life of the Blackfoot
Would Willow and Lily homestead with me?
How far ahead of myself I had gotten.

They could tell I had something troubling me
Amy said: “Joe, I think the full moon is on your mind.”
I kind of looked at her surprised
Using the moonlight last night talking to Willow
I had only noticed it but not taken much account
She was entirely right
My mind was in the moon
And with the birds, and bees,
And coyotes howling in the night.

So Frank and me cut wood
And Amy made us sandwiches
And all four of us drank fresh milk
And enjoyed the early afternoon sun together
I learned that Amy was pregnant with their second
At the same time Clarinet learned
She was startled with the news
Playing as she was with a doll on the patio,
She just sat there with her big eyes
Looking at her mother
Probably as many thoughts going through her brain
As I had inside of mine.

I left with enough time
To return by daylight
Trying not to rush myself home
For I knew that I would be expected
But still so many thoughts going through my mind
Before getting home
I stopped at one of the bluffs with a view
Of the entire valley basin
And watched the sun set
With glorious reds and purples and oranges
That gave me every answer
I had ever asked before.

day XX